Don't Mention Santa near Malfoys
by FanofBellaandEdward
Summary: Sequel to No Santa Claus' Allowed! Draco thought he was finally done having to deal with Santa Claus. Oh boy, was he wrong! Christmas fic; Draco's pov; implied mature content; slash; past MPreg


**Author's note: This is much later than I wanted, but time wasn't my friend this week and I had to finish this story today *sighs* Consider it a belated Christmas present ^^;**

 **This is the sequel to No Santa Claus' Allowed! and its prequel Malfoys and Santa Claus don't mix well. You don't need to have read the previous two to really follow the events of this fic, but it can help as there are references to the other ones in this.**

 **I wish you all a belated Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays/insert which holiday you celebrate!**

 **Warnings: Draco's pov; established slash; implied mature content; past MPreg; foul language**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling owns it.**

 **I hope you'll like it!**

* * *

 **Don't Mention Santa near Malfoys**

"But daddy, Sarah says it's fun!"

Draco cocked an eyebrow, dusting the soot off his robes, when his daughter's voice danced towards him from the vicinity of the kitchen. Behind him the flames changed from a forest green to a dark red and bright golden; the sound of the gentle crackling fire accompanying that of the rain hitting the window with a steady rhythm.

December it might be but that didn't mean Mother Nature was willing to exchange the rain for snow.

Bright grey eyes met his own when his son popped his head into the foyer and he greeted the older blond with a small grin. "Papa, you're home early," he remarked; his book of transfiguration pressed against his chest.

"Yes, the workload today was lighter than I expected," Draco smiled wryly.

If he had left his lab earlier to avoid running into that stupid bint who assumed that working in the International Magical Office of Law meant she could demand impossible adjustments to potions, well, that was neither here nor there.

"How's homework going?" Draco inquired and smirked when Scorpius huffed annoyed.

"It's going I suppose," the twelve year old muttered darkly and scowled at his book. Scorpius was in his second year at Hogwarts now and at the moment home for the winter holidays. To everyone's surprise, the dark haired boy had been Sorted into Slytherin; they had likely all assumed that having Harry Potter as his father would guarantee a spot in Gryffindor.

Draco was one of the very few who knew that the Sorting Hat had wanted to place Harry in Slytherin. He would forever find it a shame that his husband had refused to be placed in that House.

"Dad's making dinner," Scorpius informed him as they left the small foyer and made their way to the kitchen.

"But he gives presents!" Ianthe insisted, on the verge of whining.

"And she's still going on about that," Scorpius muttered darkly and slipped into the kitchen before Draco could question him.

Harry was flipping over the meat and directing the plates and cutlery to the table with his wand while their six year old daughter hovered next to him; her stuffed panther doll clenched between her small hands.

Her dark blonde hair flipped through the air when she whipped her head around and her face brightened when her green eyes fell on the older blond.

"Papa!" she shrieked and practically jumped in Draco's arms, forcing him to catch her to prevent her from meeting the floor.

"Hello Princess. Have you been a good girl?" Draco smiled as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I'm always good, Papa!" she protested and squealed when Draco started tickling her sides. When she began squirming too much he placed her back on the floor.

"Work done for today?" Harry tilted his head up to accept Draco's kiss.

"For today, yes," Draco murmured and slipped his arms around the dark haired wizard's waist. "So what is fun and who gives presents?" he inquired lightly.

Harry looked up alarmed and shook his head insistently, but before Draco could question the look, Ianthe chirped brightly, "I want to visit Santa Claus, Papa!"

Immediately Draco froze and his husband gave him a resigned look.

"You asked," he muttered and shrugged.

"How should I have known that?" Draco hissed before he turned around and smiled weakly. "Ianthe, sweetheart, are you sure you want to visit him? It's not that fun, I promise."

Like hell was he going through this entire bullshit again. He had already gone through it with his cousin Teddy and heard the aftermath of the second time through his son's story and he was utterly done with the whole nonsense of Santa.

There was not going to be a third time, to hell with that. Who knew how much worse the Santa would be now?

"But Sarah says it's a lot of fun!" she insisted and a familiar stubborn look dawned upon her face.

Draco resisted the urge to groan and hide his face in his hands. Ianthe might have inherited her grace from her grandmother Narcissa, but she had definitely inherited the Potters' stubbornness. It was simply _maddening_ how stubborn his little girl could be once she set her mind on something.

"It's not," Scorpius remarked sharply, plopping down on his chair at the kitchen table. "Dad and I went years ago and Santa was nothing but a mean bast-"

"Scorpius!" Harry said warningly.

"A mean man," Scorpius corrected himself begrudgingly. "You're better off not going, Ianthe."

"He's not a mean man," Ianthe retorted petulantly and she crossed her arms; a pout forming on her lips. "Sarah says he's nice and sweet and gives presents! I want a present too!"

"The present isn't something you'd like," Scorpius said dismissively. "I didn't like my gift. You can't even choose your own present, you know? He just gives you something and where's the fun in that?"

"Looks like Santa hatred runs in the family," Harry muttered underneath his breath but it was just loud enough for Draco to pick it up and he scowled.

"We have good reason to dislike him," he retorted with a light sneer and addressed his daughter, "Listen to your brother, Ianthe. Santa is really not that fun."

"You don't know that! All my friends say Santa is nice!" Ianthe said and her cheeks started to flush a bright red – a sign she was close to throwing a tantrum.

"See, we wouldn't have this problem if we had let her attend classes with a private tutor," Draco told Harry darkly.

"Draco, don't even start," Harry growled and his eyes flashed warningly.

The blond wizard pursed his lips, but kept quiet; knowing better than to push the issue further. The whole private tutor versus a mixed class with Muggleborns was something they would never really agree on. He thought the argument was in his favour now, though, considering they wouldn't have this discussion about Santa if Ianthe had never heard a Muggleborn talking about that despicable fantasy creature.

"Daddy, I really want to see Santa!" Ianthe's lower lip started to tremble and she walked over to Harry to tug at his sweater. "Please, Daddy?" She stared at him with wide, pleading eyes.

Harry released a sigh and ruffled her hair gently as he gave her a warm smile. "Your papa and I will think about it, okay?" he said and nudged her to the table. "Now it's time for dinner, sweetie."

"But you're going to think about it, okay, Daddy?" Ianthe asked uncertainly; green eyes – a copy of her daddy – shooting back and forth between her parents.

"Yes, I promise we'll think about it," Harry replied solemnly and serenely ignored both Draco's and Scorpius' glower.

With a silent huff Draco joined his family at the table. Like hell was he going to agree to see that son of a bitch again!

* * *

Why again had he agreed to this?

"Can you at least pretend to be happy?" Harry muttered, squeezing his hand.

"Why the hell should I pretend to be happy?" Draco murmured and scowled darkly.

A huff of amusement left the dark haired man and he shook his head. "You were the one insisting on joining us," he pointed out calmly.

"Because you have a bad track record with this guy!" the blond hissed aggravated. "Who knows what the hell will happen to you if you were here alone with Ianthe!"

A platina blonde woman turned around, looking offended at hearing his cursing, but he only glared at her in response and she swiftly turned around again with a huff, pulling her toddler closer to her side.

He snorted and rolled his eyes; annoyance brewing inside him. As if her precious angel was paying enough attention to him to have caught the foul words; the brat was jumping up and down, obnoxiously whining about all the presents and candy he wanted Santa to give him.

Thank Merlin his daughter was better behaved. Sure, he could do without her stubborn fixation on visiting Santa, but at least she was patiently waiting next to Harry, clutching his hand as her head swivelled back and forth, taking in the various stores.

"We're not even in the same mall as the last two times," Harry countered with a sigh. "My luck isn't that bad."

"Says you," Draco said darkly and wondered whether he could get away with spelling the bells on those supposed elves silent. The high ringing sound the bells made every time the helpers moved was grating on his nerves.

"It'll be fine," Harry said soothingly, but there was a faint trace of uncertainty in his voice and apprehension was lurking in his eyes. He took a deep breath and smiled, nodding to their daughter who was humming a song next to him. "Just – it will make her happy. And it's just this once. It's just because it's something she doesn't know that makes her so interested in it."

"I know," Draco sighed and damn it, he couldn't remain mad. Their little girl had looked so happy this morning when she was told that they would go see Santa that he didn't have the heart to try to convince her to leave.

Fuck, he really was becoming soft, wasn't he?

 _Just this once_ , he told himself. _She only wants this because it's a novelty._

Merlin, the things he did for his family.

* * *

Fortunately the queue while long did move quickly and soon they were standing at the gate as the woman with her whining son left Santa Claus, which made it their turn now.

"And what is your name, sweetie?" a red haired girl dressed as Santa's helper smiled sweetly, bending down slightly so she could look Ianthe in the eye.

"Ianthe!" the six year old chirped and she shifted her weight from her left leg to her right, clearly becoming impatient.

"What a beautiful name!" the older girl – looking to be in her late teens – praised and clapped her hands; the bells on her hat clashing loudly against each other as she turned her head to look at the man dressed as Santa. "Santa Claus is ready to see you now, Ianthe!"

Big, green eyes stared at Harry imploringly and the dark haired man smiled encouragingly, giving her a soft push. "Go on, Santa is waiting, honey."

"Okay!" she said excitingly and skipped over to Santa, who heaved her on his lap.

"Ho, ho, ho!" Santa exclaimed joyfully, keeping a hand on Ianthe's back to keep her from toppling off his lap. "Have you been a good girl this year, Ianthe?"

"Yes!" she stated confidently; her eyes glittering with excitement when she looked up at Santa.

Honey brown eyes glanced at the two men waiting at the gate. "Is that true?"

Harry chuckled and inclined his head. "She's been a good girl, yes."

"Well, good girls get a present from Santa!" the man laughed merrily and bent over to his right, where a large bag was placed. He rummaged through it and when he straightened back up, he was holding a small box in his hand, wrapped in green paper with blue hearts printed on it and a golden bow on top of it. "Here you go!"

"Thank you, Santa!" Ianthe said gleefully, clutching the present between her hands. She clambered off his lap and ran back to her parents, waving the present in the air. "Look what Santa gave me!"

"I wonder what Santa gave you, hm?" Harry grinned and accepted her stretched out hand. "Why don't we go home and you open it there?"

"Okay, Daddy!" she chirped and gave one last wave at Santa before they left the stand.

"See, that wasn't so bad now, was it?" Harry muttered closely to Draco's ear as they wrestled their way through the crowd.

This close to Christmas the mall was jam packed with people doing their last minute shopping. Draco had already lost count on how many times he had been smacked with a bag against his arm or leg because someone had been too much in a hurry to look out.

"We're still not home," Draco retorted, stepping neatly out of the way of a haggard looking woman. "Do I need to remind you that the second time took place in another part of the mall?"

"You're never going to let that go, are you?" Harry sighed and rolled his eyes in exasperation.

They took the moving stairs down; Draco would never get used to standing still on steps that moved down. Sure, Hogwarts had moving staircases, but you still had to walk up or down the steps of those stairs. On the moving stairs made by Muggles he felt like he could fall over any minute.

He snorted, ignoring the tiny shocks that went through the moving stairs. "If you had listened to me, there wouldn't have been a second time," he said stiffly.

"Oh Merlin," Harry groaned, but he suddenly jerked to a halt when they passed a bookstore.

"What?" Draco glanced at the store, not seeing anything of interest. The display showed a couple of cookbooks, some guides for those machines Muggles liked to transport themselves with and a couple of novels.

"Sorry, I just need to check something really quickly." Harry glanced at him apologetically. "Hermione has been looking for a particular book for a while now and I want to see whether this store has it. Do you mind waiting for a bit?"

"No problem." Draco shook his head and grabbed Ianthe's hand. "What do you say of buying a sweet, Ianthe?" He had spotted an ice cream shop a bit further down the corridor and Harry discreetly slipped him some Muggle money in his pocket, giving him a quick peck on his lips before he hurried into the bookstore.

"Yes, please, Papa!" Ianthe grinned brightly, practically vibrating with excitement at the thought of eating sweets. "Can I have ice cream, Papa?"

"Sure," Draco said amicably and they wormed their way through some small groups of people chattering with each other.

Five minutes later, they were lounging on a wooden bank the mall had installed for its customers to rest while Ianthe was eating her strawberry and chocolate ice cream. She had handed her present to Draco in order not to spill any ice cream on it while they waited for Harry's return.

Draco started when someone sank down on the bank closely next to him and when he glanced to his left he was greeted with familiar honey brown eyes. This time Santa was just dressed in a black, form fitting sweater and a pair of dark jeans.

"Hello there," the man greeted him with a smile.

Draco arched an eyebrow. "Can I help you?"

"As a matter of fact I think you can," the man chuckled. "My name's Jonathan. I'm done working for the day and I wondered whether you'd like to go out for a drink with me?"

"My daughter is sitting next to me," Draco replied incredulously, marvelling at the balls Jonathan had. Never mind that Ianthe was sitting right next to him, the man had some bollocks to try to pick him up while he had seen him together with Harry. Did he have no shame at all?

Jonathan quirked a mischievous grin. "She could join us. I know a family friendly pub."

"No, thank you," Draco retorted dismissively, hoping that was the end of it. He stiffened when a hand landed on his own left one.

"Aw, why not? Do you already have plans?"

"Yes, he does. With me." Harry's ice cold voice made shivers dance over Draco's spine and he looked up in surprise.

He often forgot how silent Harry could be when he wanted.

"Excuse me?" Jonathan gaped at him – very unattractively, if Draco might add.

"Why don't you remove your hand before I do it for you?" Harry smiled sweetly, but his eyes glowed unnaturally bright and Jonathan chuckled nervously, snatching his hand away and raising them in surrender.

"Sorry, man, I didn't know he was taken."

"Yes, wedding rings are fairly invisible these days," Harry drawled; green eyes drilling into wide honey brown ones. "They should make it more eye-catching, don't you think so? Oh, I know! Maybe they should make it a bright colour, like gold." He waggled his hand in the air, ostensive showing off his golden wedding ring. "Might I suggest you seek your luck elsewhere? It's time I go home with _my_ husband and my daughter."

Draco didn't even bother trying to hide his smirk. Merlin, but he absolutely loved seeing Harry like this. It didn't happen often enough if you asked him.

Jonathan didn't even try to defend himself; he just went a fire red and practically scurried away.

"What?" Harry asked curtly when he noticed the look on Draco's face.

"Nothing," Draco assured him smoothly and entwined their fingers. "Ready to go home?"

His husband narrowed his eyes, clearly not misled by the innocent tone, but nodded sharply. His magic was humming, however, and interest was stirring in Draco.

Maybe that Jonathan guy hadn't been a complete waste of time and space if he was reading Harry correctly.

* * *

The door fell shut behind them and the Silencing Charm was activated.

"'You can't go alone, who knows what that bastard is going to do?'" Harry said mockingly and slammed Draco against the door; his eyes glowing fiercely. "'It happened twice before, I'm not going to let it happen a third time!'" he continued, his voice lowering a tad in an impression of Draco's. Hands roughly tugged at his belt. "So tell me, Malfoy, why it is then that I come back only to see that guy hanging off of you?"

Draco smirked, not in the least deterred by the rough treatment. Slipping his fingers around locks of soft, black hair, he murmured silkily, "Someone seems jealous."

"Jealous? As if I have a reason to be jealous," Harry scoffed and impatiently threw Draco's belt on the floor.

"There's no shame in admitting that," Draco nearly crooned; his breath hitching when Harry's hands dipped to his zipper.

"I don't need to be jealous," Harry insisted and succeeded in lowering his zipper; Draco's interest in the proceedings visible now without the restriction of the trousers. "Because we both know you're mine." Harry brought his lips to Draco's ear and whispered tauntingly, "But if you need a reminder, let me show you."

Before Draco could say anything – but it wasn't like he was going to protest, so what did it matter, really? – Harry had dropped to his knees in front of him and swiftly tugged down both his trousers and underwear.

An embarrassingly loud moan – and he was going to deny later on that that sound had ever left his mouth, damn it – was torn out of him when warmth surrounded him, enveloping him completely, and he smacked his head against the door, not even registering the sharp spike of pain as he burrowed his hands in Harry's hair, tightening his grip around fine locks.

"Fuck, Harry," he groaned and the other one merely hummed in response, making the blond keen at the effect it had on him.

Harry was absolutely ruthless, never slowing down once, hands touching and caressing every inch of skin they found, and it wasn't long before Draco had become a shivering mess; arousal thrumming through his veins, his skin feeling like it was set on fire as he clenched and unclenched his fists, hips moving out of his own volition.

A noise of protest escaped him when Harry pulled back suddenly. "Come on, Draco," he murmured, voice rough and breathless, green eyes wide with black nearly taking over the iris', before he lowered his head again. This time, however, he kept his eyes on Draco and it was this sight, green eyes blazing fire, a red flush dusting hollowed cheeks that made Draco shout, back arching as his whole body trembled and shivered; blinding whiteness overtaking his vision as he was violently thrown over the edge.

The sensation of soothing hands on his thighs and light kisses being peppered on his cheeks, lips and forehead brought him back.

"So, remembering now?" Harry asked casually, but his eyes were too sharp, too bright as he hovered in front of Draco – and when had he sunk down on the floor?

A roguish grin spread out on the blond's face as he reached out to haul Harry closer. "Almost. I need a bit more."

Emerald green darkened and a tongue peeked out to lick glistening, reddened, bruised lips. "I think I can arrange that," Harry whispered; voice rough with want.

They didn't leave their room for two more hours – not that Draco minded being reminded just who he belonged to.

He would never be grateful for Santa – and this was absolutely the last time they would ever have an encounter with him, no matter how much Ianthe would beg – but well, he couldn't say he was opposed to the result of this meeting.

Whoever said jealousy didn't become someone, obviously hadn't met Harry Potter – and for that Draco was quite grateful.

* * *

"So, are you happy now with your gift from Santa?" Scorpius groused later that evening when they were eating dinner. He had chosen to remain home, adamantly refusing to set foot near Santa Claus.

Draco couldn't exactly blame him for that, given what had happened last time when Scorpius had visited Santa.

Ianthe pouted, poking her steamed broccoli. "No, it was just a small doll," she said disappointedly. "It doesn't even talk or move! Santa is stupid; I don't want to see him anymore."

"Yep, definitely a Malfoy trait," Harry muttered lowly and smiled impishly when Draco scowled at him.

Draco rolled his eyes and took a sip of his water. At least there wouldn't be any more Santa visits in the future.

One had to count the small blessings in life after all.

* * *

 **AN2: And this wraps up this mini-series! I'm not completely happy with the ending, but yeah *sighs***

 **Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.**

 **I hope to see you all in my future stories!**

 **Cuddles**

 **Melissa**

 **P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.**


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